UNTITLED
by Snowhearte
Summary: A virtual game is poisoning the minds of a high school, sucking in new victims like a leech sucks up blood. There's one boy who realizes what's going on, but will he be able to resist the sultry lure of his own power?


DISCLAIMER: Unfortunately—but possibly lucky for you—I do not own Pokémon. That would be cool, though it will never happen, for if I did it would no longer be a children's show and they would take it off the air. So I don't own Pokémon. This is just a cheap copy that my own silly imagination cooked up. I do, however, own all the original characters (Harry, Brianna, etcetera).

NOTE: Don't come in here just to flame my on my ideas, my writing ability or style. If you come in here only to read a story you know you won't like, then why bother even clicking on the title? Don't bother reading if you're just going to flame. Kthnx.

_**PROLOGUE**_

Jared Brody was beginning to get very, very tired of these applicants.

There were five in the waiting room. He had, so far, interviewed three. One was a hefty man who looked more like a trucker than anything, severely dwarfing Mr Brody by at least a foot. The second was a weasel-like gentleman, who sneered across Brody's desk at him in quite a disturbing manner. The third was a pretty girl, albeit short in the chest, that seemed very vapid in the head.

What did they think this job was? Some sort of... leering truck driver modelling gig? This was an esteemed position he was looking to fill, not something... like them! They looked nothing like game designers!

He sent the girl out after a brief lecture on choosing her career, then took a moment before calling for the next idiot, resting his forehead on his desk with an exhausted sigh.

Three weeks, his boss had said. He had three weeks to fill this position. And now here he was, a month later, his job on the line, forced to interview truckers for a game designing job!

What was the world coming to?

Brody pressed the intercom button; only two more and then he could go home and weep in the privacy of his own den. "Next applicant, please enter the office."

It was another man, a young one, barely out of high school. He had that fresh-faced, eager look about him; his hair, ordinary brown, fell into big dark blue eyes that were definitely the best feature in an otherwise unfortunate face with a too-big nose and too-small lips. His body was stocky, with that awkward look that comes with freshly gained muscle in someone used to fat, and he moved as though too heavy a step would break the floor. It was a meek sort of way that he moved, as though he expected Brody to suddenly leap up and tackle him. And maybe he did.

_Bullied. Very bullied. A geek._

_He's perfect!_

In looks, perhaps, but what about qualifications? He did look awfully young.

Brody picked up the kid's resume, taking a glance at the top of the half-page of small type. "Harold Palmgrove?"

"Harry, actually," the kid corrected, sitting gingerly in the chair Brody proffered. "It's really nice to meet you, Mr Brody."

"Hmm." Normally Brody would've returned the favour, but it had been a long day and kissing ass didn't sit with him. He skimmed over the rest of the resume. "You don't seem to have many qualifications, kid."

"Um, no, I guess not."

"You haven't even been to college yet, according to this."

"Actually, it was a year and a half," Harry replied, shifting in his seat. "I forgot to put it in there. Top of my class at BCIT, but I dropped out."

"Why?" This was mildly interesting.

Harry shrugged. "Well... I heard this job was opening up. I thought I had to try."

Brody gave him a stern look. "Listen, son, you can't expect to show up here and automatically get the job just because of a year and a half on the honour roll. What makes you such hot shit?"

Harry blushed, fidgeting with the hem of his dress shirt. "Well..."

"C'mon, kid, why do you want the job?" Brody leaned forward. "Look, I've had to sit through an hour and a half of people looking for a good job. This job. So it's not like we're exactly low on candidates." He was lying, of course, but the kid didn't need to know that. "Tell me a story. Wow me. Shock the pants right off me. Tell me something none of them can tell."

The kid looked unsure, biting his lower lip. "You sure? You might not like it."

Brody waved his hands in the air. "Just tell me why you, instead of them, deserve this job."

"Okay." Harry leaned forward, as though about to divulge a secret. "It takes place when I was in high school." He paused there. Brody gestured him on impatiently. "Every day was the same..."

_**A/N:**_Yes, I know. It sounds a lot like the beginning to _21._ That, dear reader(s), was deliberate. I liked how it sounded in the movie. I didn't like the beginning my mind produced. I decided to start it thus. Don't worry, I don't own _21_ either. I hope you enjoyed (and reviewed!) this mildly nauseating work.

~Snowhearte~


End file.
